


The Rescue

by yafan92



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Gen, POV Cassian (ACoTaR)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yafan92/pseuds/yafan92
Summary: This is Cassian's point of view of the scene in A Court of Wings and Ruin when he and Azriel rescue Feyre and Lucien on the frozen lake between the Autumn and Winter Courts.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 14
Kudos: 105





	1. The Frozen Lake

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my favorite scenes in the whole book - I just love Feyre and Cassian's brother/sister relationship and I wanted to explore this same scene from his perspective!

We were just sitting down to breakfast in the palace above the Hewn City when the message came. Mor sat straight up, all trace of her usual early-morning lethargy gone in an instant, and said, “Rhys found her. We need to go, now.”

“Where?” I demanded, pushing out of my chair with such force that it fell over. 

“Border of Autumn and Winter,” Mor snapped, summoning blades from a pocket realm to fasten about her person. “She’s under attack from Autumn - likely Beron’s sons,” she added. “Az will meet us there.” 

I briefly considered and discarded several strategies as I tapped my Siphons to summon my armor. I knew that even now, the thought of facing Eris made Mor tremble, but that she was willing to do it in order to save our High Lady. However I also knew that Az and I were more than up to the task. In fact, if I was being honest, I relished the opportunity to separate Eris’s head from his shoulders, as I had wanted to do over 500 years ago. So, as my final piece of armor snapped into place, I told her, “Drop me off and then go to the northern border of Winter. The last thing we need is a bunch of Winter sentries deciding they want to intervene, and you’re enough of a threat that you can draw their attention away.”

Relief and concern warred over Mor’s features. “Cass, your wings -” she began.

“Are more than up to the task,” I cut her off decisively. “Let’s go.” 

She grabbed my hand, and a heartbeat later we were whirling through darkness and emerging high above a frozen lake. I snapped out my wings to support us, but Mor was already gone. Azriel appeared a moment later, and I took a few precious seconds to take in the scene below us. 

On the ice, I saw five figures: four with flaming red hair and a smaller one who dripped blood as she ran across the ice. Fury lashed through my veins as one of the red-haired figures winnowed and backhanded her so hard she went down, then wrapped flames around her and started dragging her back to the Autumn shore. I barely registered the appearance of more sentries, armed with arrows of ash, before I growled to Az “Cover me,” and I snapped my wings in tight and dove. I was going to end every single one of them who laid a hand on her.

I didn’t bother to slow my fall as my feet slammed into the ice right in front of Feyre and snarled at the male who held her. She was bound with fire around her ankles, wrists, and mouth, and there was a nasty gash on her arm, but otherwise she seemed unharmed. The emotion in her face as she saw me threatened to send me to my knees, and my Siphons flickered as Azriel landed between us and the other males. I looked into the face of her captor and felt the icy rage of battle settle over me as I pulled twin blades from their sheaths at my sides. 

“I suggest you drop my lady,” I said to Eris, with a calm I did not feel. His hand tightened in her hair, and she let out a small whimper of pain. I bared my teeth at him, suddenly transported back to a different time and place, with a different female at his mercy. A familiar panic threatened to take hold as I beheld them, but although Feyre was not much older now than Mor was then, I had trained her myself. All I needed was for her to get out of his grasp so I could kill him for daring to harm another member of my family.

I slid my eyes from Eris to Feyre, willing her to remember those first lessons I had given her all those months ago. Understanding lit her eyes, and before Eris could react she turned and slammed her knees between his legs. He doubled over, but kept his grip on her hair, so she drove her fists into his face. The crunch of his nose breaking had barely finished sounding when I saw Feyre rolling away, and I allowed myself a feral smile of anticipation as I raised my blades and stepped between them.

Eris was fast, I’ll give him that, and had his sword out to prevent the killing blow I had intended for his neck. He was back on his feet a moment later, and I advanced to push him further away from Feyre. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of blue as Azriel shielded us from the arrows coming in from the shore, but then my attention was back on the male before me. He blocked my next few blows, but I had the weight of five centuries’ worth of hatred and vengeance on my side as I parried with one blade and sunk the other into his gut. 

His scream was music to my ears, and I had just pulled the knife to prepare for another strike when I heard Feyre’s voice behind me. “Stop.” The word was soft, but full of the same primal command I had heard Rhys use countless times: an order from my High Lady. With effort, I forced my hands to my sides and looked around. Feyre was surveying the scene, having managed to free herself from her bonds, but her magic still seemed mostly out of reach. I couldn’t help a jolt of surprise as I realized one of the red-haired males was Lucien, who looked as though he had been helping Azriel hold off two of his brothers nearby. 

The shadowsinger flicked blood from his blade and stalked toward us, taking up a spot at Feyre’s shoulder. I did the same on her other side, willing the bloodlust to subside, as she spoke again. “You all deserve to die for this. And for much, much more. But I am going to spare your miserable lives.” Her voice was cool and confident, so different from the small, broken creature I had first met that night at the House of Wind. 

Eris sneered at her words, and I snarled a warning at him as I tightened my grip on my knives, which I had only just returned to their sheaths. Feyre, however, merely dropped the glamour on her right hand to reveal a tattoo I had not yet seen, but recognized as I saw the swirls that traced from her elbow to fingertips. “I am High Lady of the Night Court,” she declared, and the shock and fear on Eris and his brothers’ faces was a sight to behold.

“There’s no such thing as a High Lady,” one of them spat, and I tensed again but looked to Feyre for direction. 

“There is now,” she replied simply, and the tightness in my chest finally eased a fraction as pride again took its place. Pride for my High Lady, who was a survivor, who’d been broken but had fought and clawed her way through the darkness the way all of us had. Pride for my friend, my sister, the one who filled the void in our circle none of us had realized was there, but was very evident once she had gone. I allowed that pride - and relief at having her back - to show as she turned to face me.

“Take me home,” she commanded, before nodding to Azriel. “Take us both home.” Lucien had joined us at some point, his face pale as he continued to stare at Feyre’s exposed tattoos. I remembered explaining to her that they represented luck and glory in the battle, and was honored to have this fierce female before me wear them.

“We’ll see you on the battlefield,” she said in dismissal to the Autumn Court flunkies still staring at us, before stepping to my side. I pulled her tightly into my arms before launching into the sky, hearing Azriel do the same beside me. Feyre buried her face into my chest against the wind as we ascended, and I could feel her heart pounding wildly with the aftershocks of adrenaline from the fight. 

I waited until the icy lake was a speck behind us and her heartbeat had slowed to speak to her, searching for a safe subject to break the tension. “I don’t know who looks more uncomfortable: Az or Lucien Vanserra,” I drawled, noting how both males were pointedly avoiding eye contact. 

I felt her laugh as she craned her head to get a look at them, and grinned in response. “Vanserra?” she asked.

“You never knew his family name?” I chuckled as she turned back to me. I saw her take in the wings over my shoulders as her smile slipped, remembering, no doubt, what sorry shape I’d been in the last time she saw me. Tears that had nothing to do with the wind whipping around us formed in her eyes, and I softened my face. “Hello, Feyre,” I said, my voice expressing all of the affection and gratitude I felt toward her. 

Her lip trembled and she threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my chest once again. I felt a lump rise in my throat as I tightened my own embrace and murmured “I missed you, too.”


	2. Return to Velaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation of the story from Cassian's POV, starting with their return to Velaris and including what happened when Rhys kicked everyone out of the town house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it took me a month, but here it is. I hope you enjoy!

Feyre didn't say anything else in the few minutes it took us to cross the territory of the Winter Court, which was fine with me as my wings were starting to ache from the strain of carrying both our weight so far and fast. The discomfort also kept me from dwelling too long on the overwhelming terror of the last few days, when even Rhys hadn't been able to figure out where she was. I focused on keeping my breathing and wingbeats steady as we approached the ancient woods that marked the northern border, angling us down for a landing when I spotted a flash of golden hair among the trees. No sooner had I set Feyre down on her feet than she was running toward Mor, who wrapped her tightly in her arms.

I stretched my wings as Mor explained why she was waiting here instead of coming with Azriel and me. Feyre gave her a long, understanding squeeze as she realized, as I had, that a confrontation with Eris was something our friend wasn't, and might never be, ready for. The two females broke apart as Az landed with Lucien, and Mor gave the red-haired male a long, appraising look, eyebrows raised.

“He fought against Eris and the other two,” I explained, and she turned to look at me. I saw her eyes widen and nostrils flare as she noticed the blood covering my arms and hands, scenting to whom it belonged.

“Eris,” she choked out. “Did you -”

“He remains alive,” Azriel answered before I could say anything. “So do the others.” Relief briefly flickered over her face, but I had to admit that maybe I was a teeny bit upset with Feyre for not letting me kill him, diplomatic nightmare be damned.

“Then let’s go home,” Mor stated, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Feyre was eyeing Lucien. “Which one?” she asked warily. Whatever had transpired between them since the Spring Court, it seemed that she had not trusted him enough to reveal the existence of Velaris. I felt the pride of having her as my High Lady flare again in my chest, even as Mor gave Lucien a second appraisal. I could practically see her weighing her decision; no doubt the male had come along for the chance to see his mate again, who was now safely ensconced at the House of Wind. I had a feeling he would behave as long as he knew we had her, so was not surprised when Mor decided in his favor.

“The town house,” she said. “You have someone there waiting for you.” She reached out her hand to Feyre, who took it and then mine in turn. I grabbed Azriel, who shot me a dirty look as he again reached out to Lucien. I bit back a grin; it was so rare to see the shadowsinger uncomfortable that I couldn’t help but enjoy it a little bit. The look on his face said he knew exactly what I was thinking and would ensure I got stuck with Beron’s son the next time we traveled. Mor snorted at both of us, shaking her head before winnowing us directly back to the foyer of the town house.

As soon as we arrived, my attention shifted to Lucien, and I could sense the others doing the same. He turned slowly, taking in the entryway of the house and surrounding rooms, his expression unreadable. Regardless of how he had fought for Feyre, had screamed her name when Eris grabbed her, I was fully prepared to drag him all the way to the Court of Nightmares if he so much as flinched in the wrong direction. I leaned against the banister of the stairs and crossed my arms as his metal eye seemed to look through the front door to the city beyond. I calculated 24 different ways to take him out if he tried to make a break for it before he turned back to face us.

“There are children laughing in the streets,” he said quietly, and I relaxed slightly as Amren appeared in the sitting room doorway behind Feyre.

“That they do so at all after Hybern’s attack is testament to how hard the people of Velaris have worked to rebuild,” she replied, and Feyre jumped before turning to look at her. She nodded in greeting, sweeping her unnerving silver gaze across us all before returning it to the High Lady at her side. “I see you brought home a new pet,” she added, eyeing Lucien as her lip curled.

To my amusement, Lucien stiffened in fear, and I couldn’t suppress a snort as he bowed deeply to the tiny terror in front of him. Feyre shot me an annoyed glance, and I rolled my eyes at her back as she turned away. Amren would be insufferable for the next day at least. Indeed, she was smirking slightly as she addressed him. “Already trained, I see.” I sent Azriel a pained look, which he studiously ignored as Feyre introduced Lucien. Mor saw it, however, and pressed her lips together tightly as though fighting back a smile.

My attention snapped back to the conversation as Lucien again addressed Feyre. “What is this place?” he asked.

The air seemed to drain from the room as Feyre hesitated a moment. “Home,” she finally said, and the last of the panic from the previous few weeks melted away. She was here, no longer surrounded by enemies in a place we couldn’t protect her. “This is - my home. This is Velaris,” she continued. “The City of Starlight.”

As though summoned by her words, Rhys appeared in the doorway behind her, straightening the lapels on his ridiculous jacket before leaning against the frame of the arched opening. Relief flashed momentarily across his features before he plastered on one of his signature smirks as Lucien stated flatly, “And you are High Lady of the Night Court.”

“Indeed she is,” Rhys drawled, and I grinned as Feyre turned to face him. I saw his face fall as she whimpered and fell to her knees, sobs racking her small body. He was there in an instant, wiping away her tears, and I couldn’t help the pang of longing I felt as he kissed her deeply and pulled her into his arms. Although I would never begrudge their happiness, I couldn't help but contrast Rhys's reunion with Feyre to my own with another Archeron sister. I wasn't sure if Nesta would ever forgive me for what had happened in Hybern, nor was I entirely sure I could forgive myself for failing to protect her.

I was pulled out of my self-pity by Rhys's order to "Go find somewhere else to be for a while." I gaped at him, but he had already winnowed up the stairs with Feyre, his footsteps echoing down the hall toward their bedroom.

Mor sighed and grabbed Lucien's arm, nodding at the rest of us, and I reached out to Az and Amren as we winnowed away once again. We landed in the cozy parlor of Mor's city home, where Azriel and I had spent many long evenings during the last fifty years. I made to plop down in my favorite spot on the sofa, but Mor stopped me with a click of her tongue. "You," she hissed, pointing at me, "had better not get blood all over my furniture." She turned to Lucien. "There's a bathroom just around the corner, if you'd like to wash up," she said with a gesture. He was looking rather pale under the layers of grime, but nodded gratefully at her and disappeared in the direction she had indicated.

Amren snorted and turned to leave. "I'm sure even you three can manage to babysit one High Lord's son without me," she called over her shoulder as she walked out, no doubt to return to her lair and continue decoding the Book of Breathings. I scowled at her retreating back, flipping off the closed door as it slammed behind her then frowned again at the dried blood still coating my fingers.

"Mor, can you do that thing where you just snap your fingers and clean me up?"

She snorted. "You can go wash up after Lucien is done, you brute."

I grinned at her. "I can't exactly intimidate him if I ask him to wait for me to wash up first, can I?"

Mor rolled her eyes, muttering something I chose not to hear, but waved a hand in my direction and the blood disappeared. Before I had a chance to say anything else, I felt a familiar tapping within my mind.

 _"Finally decided you want some pointers on how to take care of a female?"_ I asked Rhys as I let him in through my mental shields.

 _"Just show me what happened, asshole,"_ he replied, but there was no heat behind his retort. In fact, I could hear the vestiges of his fear in his voice, so I bit back the other taunts I had lined up and called up my memories of the confrontation on the ice. I felt his rage as I showed him how Eris had backhanded Feyre and bound her with flames, and then his pride when she announced herself as High Lady. I let him feel my disappointment at leaving Beron’s sons alive, and a low grumble told me he agreed. _“Why didn’t she use her power on them?”_ he mused.

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. _“Maybe she didn’t want them to see?”_ I suggested. _“But that doesn’t explain why she didn’t winnow away. Maybe she’s drained?”_ I had wondered myself why she was, of all places, at the border of Autumn and Winter, looking like she’d been rolling through mud for a week, and now that the immediate reactions of rage, relief, and joy were fading, curiosity was hitting me more strongly than ever.

 _“Thank you, Cass,”_ Rhys said, and I knew he didn’t just mean for allowing him into my head.

 _“I should be thanking you,”_ I replied. _“I got to stab Eris.”_ He chuckled slightly, so I added, _“What did you think of my dramatic entrance? I can’t summon darkness, of course, but I thought it was pretty good given the short notice. I cracked the ice and everything.”_

Rhys laughed for real then, and I found myself grinning too as he withdrew from my mind. I looked around and found both Az and Mor watching me. “Rhys?” Azriel asked, and I nodded but was prevented from explaining further by Lucien reentering the room. He had washed his face and hands and pulled his long hair back into a neat braid, and was still looking around as though he expected the walls to melt away and screaming to begin.

“Right,” I said, swinging a nearby wooden chair around and straddling it to rest my forearms on the back. “Let’s get a few things straight.” Azriel and Mor flanked my chair, the former pulling out Truth-Teller to clean blood from the carved Illyrian runes and the latter crossing her arms and staring at Lucien. I started ticking items off my fingers as I spoke, “You harm anyone here, we kill you. You try to leave, we kill you. You try to see Elain without Feyre’s permission, we kill you.” Lucien’s face tightened at the mention of his mate, but he remained silent as I continued. “You put one toe out of line while you're here -"

"Let me guess, you'll kill me?" Lucien asked sarcastically.

"Slowly," agreed Az, not looking up from the blade in his hands. "And painfully." He sheathed Truth-Teller and finally looked up, his face set in a cold mask, shadows wreathing his entire form. Fear flickered in Lucien’s good eye as he beheld the face of the Spymaster of the Night Court, who had indeed orchestrated countless slow, painful deaths over the centuries.

"I'm glad we understand each other," I cut in, baring my teeth in a semblance of a smile. "Now you're going to tell us why we found you and our High Lady in the middle of a frozen lake in the Winter Court."

Lucien looked between us, his metal eye whirring, before nodding and starting his tale. He began by explaining the bargain that Tamlin had made with the king of Hybern, which resulted in two of his commanders visiting the Spring Court to examine the wall. My heart stopped when he identified them as Dagdan and Brannagh, the daemati twins who had wreaked havoc during the first war. He told us how he and Feyre had accompanied them on their various trips, including the time they had lured the Bogge to attack the commanders after they'd slaughtered three humans. I grinned for real at that; it was exactly the sort of retribution I would have taken if I were in Feyre's place, and I loved her all the more for coming up with it.

He then told us about their final trip, how he had been trapped by Ianthe and rescued by Feyre. I felt Azriel stiffen beside me at the mention of the High Priestess, and although I refused to feel sympathy for Lucien, I shuddered as I remembered how it felt to be on the receiving end of her unwanted attention. He then told us how Dagdan and Brannagh had attacked, how Feyre had held off Dagdan to give Lucien time to kill Brannagh, then finished him off with a knife through his eye. "That's my girl," I murmured with a proud grin, earning me a pinch on the arm from Mor.

"You aren't allowed to take credit for her kill," she sniffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

I glared at her, eyebrows raised. "Like hell I'm not," I retorted. "I taught her everything she knows!"

Azriel snorted, and I turned to him as well. "Don't give me that, it wasn't you kicking her ass every day!" I said indignantly.

He rolled his eyes but didn't comment, instead asking Lucien, who had been looking at me with something like horror, "Why didn't you just winnow out of Spring?"

"They dosed us with Faebane," Lucien replied. "They'd been slipping it to her for weeks, and apparently decided that she was enough of a threat that they put it in all of our food for that trip. Neither of us had access to our power at all for days. We had to walk through the Autumn Court, because apparently there's a price on Feyre's head in the Summer Court." He looked at us accusingly, but I had stopped listening after his first sentence. _Faebane_. I felt dread curling in my gut, and a look over each shoulder told me my companions felt the same. If Hybern's armies coated their weapons with it, or somehow managed to spread it over our armies… well, this war would certainly be shorter than the last one. And none of us would survive it.

Azriel recovered first, a few of his shadows detaching themselves to slither away, but he ignored them as he replied to Lucien. "So that's why you were on the lake."

Lucien nodded, and the four of us fell silent. I was still reeling from his revelation about the Faebane, my mind whirling as I frantically tried to come up with battle plans, troop formations, anything that would give us a chance against that sort of weapon. A chance to protect the people I care about, who I had already failed once.

I was pulled out of my spiral of increasingly desperate ideas by the sound of Mor clearing her throat. "Did Tamlin -" she began quietly, but stopped, seemingly unable to continue. I looked at her with concern, and I could tell Azriel was doing the same. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly, before meeting Lucien's mismatched gaze. "Did she have to share his bed?"

An involuntary snarl tore it's way from my throat as I whipped my head around to see his answer. His lip curled as he regarded us, anger evident in the flush creeping its way up his face. "No," he growled, "Tamlin isn't a monster." _Unlike Rhysand,_ he didn’t say, which probably saved his life. I felt my own features twist in fury, but Azriel beat me to a response.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, voice cold as death. "We saw what she looked like when she first came here. Did he even feed her?" I snuck a quick glance at him and saw his face set in a mask of icy rage, his eyes boring into Lucien's as his remaining shadows swirled ominously.

"I'm sure as long as he could breed her like a prize mare, it didn't matter if she was miserable," Mor spat, and Lucien flinched at the venom in her voice. I was pleased to see shame flicker across his face, but he lifted his chin and met our gazes defiantly. He looked prepared to argue, but before he could speak, Mor held out her hand to me. "Come on, it's safe to go back."

I stood, taking her hand and grabbing Az by the forearm. Lucien had schooled his features into a calm mask, but I caught a faint trace of fear in his scent as Mor reached for him again. If she dug her fingernails into his flesh viciously before winnowing us back to the town house, I wasn't going to point it out.

She deposited us back in the foyer a moment later, dropping Lucien's arm as though it burned. "You can wait in there," she said, gesturing to the sitting room, and he wisely nodded and took a seat. She watched him walk away through narrowed eyes, hugging herself tightly, and waved me off when I moved toward her. "I'm going to go help Amren," she said with a glance at Az, and disappeared.

I looked to the shadowsinger as well, noting the concern with which he was still staring at the spot where Mor had vanished. He jerked his head toward the dining room, and I nodded and took up a seat that gave me a view of both the staircase and the male in the next room. Azriel took the chair next to me and sent a shadow scurrying down the hall. A few minutes later, Nuala appeared with a platter of meats, cheeses, bread, and fruit, and we both fixed ourselves a plate, pointedly not inviting Lucien to join us.

We ate in silence, carefully watching the sitting room, and after several minutes footsteps sounded on the stairs. All three of us watched as Feyre descended, Rhys a few steps behind her. I noted the calm that had settled over my brother, the quiet joy with which he watched his mate, and when she met my eye I grinned and raised my eyebrows suggestively. She scowled at me as I felt a sharp kick under the table, and I shot an incredulous glare at Azriel. The corner of his lip twitched upward, but he immediately focused on the scene before us as Lucien rose to greet the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and feedback are more than welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - and as always please let me know what you think!


End file.
